Lamenters' Rising
by the birdman in a blue box
Summary: They have died in the name of the Imperium, they have been scorned. Yet still they fight on. After what was seemingly a death sentence the Lamenters have returned from their crusade and have managed to fill their ranks to become semi-operable again. But can they survive? Or will a greater force lead them to the Hall of Heroes?


_045.M42_

It's a quiet night in the forest that was on the outset of the hive city of Paneld. It was a dense growth of knotted and twisting trees that twirled and wrapped around each other. Attempting to move through the maze of trees with tanks or vehicles was futile as most would get stuck in the giant mud pits, jammed from all the roots and branches, or were not able to move due to tight encounters. Making the forest the perfect location for an infantry defense when it came down to it. The season had began to turn to autumn, or at least the planets version of autumn, the animals growing more tired and beginning preparations for hibernation, the leaves turning vibrant shades of yellow, purple, and red. While the weather had moved from the hot months to becoming cooler and more tolerable than it had been as of late.

Two squads of Imperial Guardsmen tread carefully around the trees and roots that burrowed and sprung forth from the ground. Sergeant Lustig of the first squad scanned ahead, his grip tightening on his Laspistol. There was something not right with this situation. The normal noises birds and insects that made a harmonious mixture of sounds in the forest had stopped.

Sergeant Lustig held his hand up to signal the squad to halt. Something was ahead in the bush. He could hear the crush of leaves and twigs beneath some thing's feet as it moved towards them. Lustig turned to one of the Guardsmen. "Prepare a line, this does not bode well," he ordered as he stood next to a Guardsman who was setting up a heavy machine gun on top of a rock.

"Incoming!" a Guardsman yelled as he brought his Lasgun up and pulled the trigger, a streak of red travelled across the battlefield.

Lustig looked up to see a sea of green rushing towards him. "Orks," he whispered as he began to fire his Laspistol into the oncoming wave.

"WAAAAAAAAGH!" it roared as the Orks beat their clubs and axes.

The machine gun next to him opened up on the Ork WAAAGH. Even though he knew they had two machine gun nests and at least thirty to forty Guardsmen he knew that they would be overrun. Turning to a Guardsman with a Vox-caster he stepped down and grabbed him on the shoulder.

"Soldier, get on the Vox and tell HQ there's a full blown WAAAGH on our heads and that we need reinforcements." Lustig ordered him as he walked back to his former position.

The Orks rushed forward despite chunks of their ranks falling underneath the blaze of Lasfire and machine gun rounds. There were too many for the small handful of Guardsmen that had been sent with him on this recon mission.

An Ork chucked its axe at a Guardsman who fell over dead when it landed right between his eyes sending blood and pieces of brain matter every which way. The Guardsmen around him were starting to panic as they quickly fired into the Ork mob.

"Sergeant!" the Guardsman with the Vox-caster yelled. "HQ responded!"

"Well trooper what did they say?" Lustig roared back.

"Watch the skies,"

Lustig's brow furrowed as he looked up to see several shadows in the sky streaking down towards them. Were they Valkyries? Confused but unable to focus on such matter he hoped whatever HQ was sending them was enough to curb the attack from the Orks.

Lustig looked to the sky once again to see the shadows grow closer, gaining speed rapidly. They weren't Valkyries, so what were they? Lustig wondered as they streaked towards his position.

"Hold the line Guardsmen!" Lustig roared as the Orks began to close the gap. Lustig clutched his chainsword and brought it up so that when the first Ork rushed him he would have the satisfaction of ramming it through its face.

There was a whistling sound followed by a loud crash and a hiss. Dirt was flung through the air causing Lustig to shield his eyes and look away from the battle. After the dirt stopped falling Lustig looked back onto the killing fields to see five yellow drop pods with a bleeding heart on a checkered background. The drop pod doors opened to reveal tens of heavily armed Space Marines.

"Which chapter are they sir?" a Guardsman asked as he aimed for any Orks that popped out from behind the drop pods.

"I don't know private, keep firing." Lustig ordered as the Space Marines opened bolter fire onto the oncoming Orks.

"Purification Squad, burn the Xenos!" what Lustig had to guess was a Captain as his helmet was painted red which was different from his yellow clad brethren.

Ten Space Marines all armed with flamers kneeled down and began to unleash a holy streak of fire onto the Orks. The front line of Orks lit up with fire and began to run around screaming as they burned up. The other Space Marines stood behind them in formations of ten and blasted them away with a rain of large caliber bullets.

Within minutes the Ork advance had been cut down and the Orks turned tail and ran. Rather living to fight another day than being cut down by a swarm of bolter fire and flame.

"Purification squad, burn those bodies. We shall cleanse the Xenos from this planet!" the Captain barked orders and the Space Marines obeyed, burning every last Ork body in sight. The Sergeant turned and watched as three to four Apothecaries step forward. "Tend to the wounded Guardsmen and bring me the one who is in charge."

The Apothecaries nodded in understanding and then moved towards the Guardsmen to administer first aid to any wounded Guardsmen, Sergeant Lustig moved forward to the Space Marine Captain who stood two feet taller than his six foot three build. He swallowed as the Captain removed his helmet to reveal a bald head with a single service stud. His thick mustache twitched in anticipation as his robotic eye scanned up and down the Captain's body.

"Are you in charge of these Guardsmen?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Yes sir." Sergeant Lustig said with a small amount of fear.

"I would like to state that your Guardsmen performed admirably. Despite being overrun they held the line to slaughter as many Orks as they could. I am going to give your name to your superiors to be praised among the Guard's ranks. For now however as soon as my Apothecaries are finished tending to your wounded we shall return to the nearby Hive City. Something tells me those Orks aren't quite done yet."

Lustig about fell over, he quickly straightened up and nodded. "Sir yes sir," he responded as the Sergeant turned and went to shout some orders at the Space Marines.

The same Guardsman who had asked what company the Space Marines was from walked up to him once again. "Which company is that sir?"

"I don't know Guardsman, but it doesn't matter. All of us in the end are servants to the Emperor and they have proven admirably. Now pack up soldier, we have difficult times ahead of us."

* * *

_992.M41_

"Survivors from the surface?" Chapter Master Imano asked the recently promoted Captain Volturno.

"None, sir. All fell to the onslaught of the Tyranids." Volturno replied solemnly.

"How many battle brothers remain?"

"Two hundred and six. We lost over a third of our forces."

"Twenty years left. We might be able to make it, we managed to survive for eighty years relatively unharmed."

"Sir," Volturno said as he exited the Chapter Master's quarters.

Imano bowed his head for a moment. The weight of his new position had brought onto him a rather large set of problems. No recruits for another twenty years, they had more gene seeds stored than they had proper troops. Their scout company had been abolished in favor of them filling the depleting ranks of the second, and third companies. However with the fall of the third company the first company would now have to be deployed on more missions in order to hold a small scrap of hope for the chapter's future.

Imano sighed aloud before straightening up. In the face of utter defeat and near hopelessness he somehow had been the one to tie the chapter together. He was a striking nine feet tall, making many of his Battle Brothers look short in comparison. One could have called him quite handsome, having held onto his blonde hair and striking blue eyes that could have been easily burnt off or have fallen out do to years of intense combat situations. He had a bond with his troops, caring deeply about each of his brothers but knew that ultimately it could all be for naught.

Imano stood and walked out onto the bridge of the last remaining Lamenter ship, the _Daughter of Tempests._ He went to the shrine of the Emperor which was located just off of the main bridge, it was soon dawning time for evening prayer. In this hour of mourning he would need as much guidance as he could receive.

He entered the prayer chambers where the rest of his battle brothers had gathered. The air was thick sorrow and loss from the hundred or so marines that had been killed in the line of fire. Sending their chapter further to extinction.

Imano got down onto his knees and intertwined his fingers. Some men rested their hands on their knees and others acted like him, either way prayer had started and he hoped that there would be some sort of answer.

An hour passed and evening prayer concluded, the Lamenters stood together and walked down to the cantina for the evening meal. The serfs had outdone themselves this time, stacks of meat, fruits, and vegetables stood tall on platters of shining steel with goblets filled to the brim with fine wine, the wine that had been held in reserve for when they arrived on Holy Terra when their exile had been done with. However the serfs must have been able to sense the desperation in the air and prepared the meal for their masters as an attempt to "cheer" them up.

Imano took his place with the handful of Captain left at a table that stood on higher ground from the rest of the Lamenters. From here they could look down upon their men like parents looking upon their children from the adult table.

Taking a plate full of meat and fruits Imano slowly began to eat his meal. The meat had been sautéed in fat and had been cooked to perfection, but all that fell upon his hypersensitive taste buds were blood and ash. After three more bites Imano pushed away his meal and slowly began to pull from his goblet, it was unbefitting and almost impossible of a Chapter Master to do so, but he had the urge to get very intoxicated.

The meal finished quickly afterwards, the stench of gloom hung heavily in the air. Imano stood up and all of the battle brothers turned their attention to him. "Battle Brothers, for eighty years we have been subject to a penance crusade for our role in the Badab War. We managed to survive with few casualties to this point, however in our latest battle many Battle Brothers fell in the oncoming onslaught of the Tyranid incursion. I ask you now in our time of greatest need for us hold fast. We shall protect the weak and the innocent but we shall also weather the oncoming storm for twenty more years, we shall return and replenish our ranks to continue our mission in the name of the Emperor." Imano stopped for a moment to clear his throat, he saw his brothers sitting there knowing that he was most likely lying straight to their faces. "Therefore in memory of our fallen comrades night training shall be canceled and replaced with prayer and personal self reflection. Maintenance rituals shall be at the normal hour, regular routines shall commence tomorrow. For now pray and remember those who fell today, our crusade begins anew tomorrow."

The Space Marines stood up and exited the cantina in an orderly fashion. After a few minutes all that remained were Imano and Captain Fennias, Fennias had been added into the Lamenter ranks at the closings of the Badab war. Somehow he had been lucky, or unlucky, enough to have been through the trials and brought into their ranks. His entire military career had been during their exile. Somehow he had proven himself on the handful of skirmishes the Lamenters had been involved in to be a reliable strategist despite his tendency to be a bit rash, something that had even out as the years had progressed. He had been assigned as the captain of the sixth squad of second company no more than five years ago and hadn't had a chance to truly prove himself as a commander under fire. However, with the loss of forces that chance could be coming quicker than he thought.

"Why do you remain?" Imano asked as he stood, about to take his leave to consult with the pilots to head towards an area of space where there had been few to no enemy forces reported.

"Sir, we had a bad day, but tomorrow dawns a new one. Tomorrow we can show the Emperor why our chapter shall be preserved. We managed to go twenty years without a serious encounter; if we play it smart we can finish the remainder of our penance and return to Terra.

Imano felt a small smile creep onto his face; _marines like him are the future_ he thought before putting a hand onto Fennias. "You speak truth, however we are not cowards. We shall fight for the innocent and for the weak. Whoever needs us, whenever they need us, and however they need us we shall fulfill their needs and fall upon their enemies as the Emperor's might incarnate. Now young one, go and rest. Tomorrow begins the last stretch of our crusade."

Fennias blinked for a moment before nodding his head and living the cantina. Heavy boot steps echoing as he proceeded down a hallway and off to wherever he chose. Imano's grimace returned as soon as he left.

"Emperor protect, and send us a miracle," he whispered as he left to consult with the pilots for their next course.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoy the new story. This one deals with one of my favorite Space Marine Chapters, The Lamenters. Basically they lead the race in terms of being utterly screwed over. Look it up, I'm not kidding. You think that the Blood Angels with their Black Rage and Red Thirst have it bad? Nothing. Flesh Eaters? Nothing. Although if anything they are the good guys of the Space Marines, they basically exist to make sure that civilians and such get out of combat alive. Usually sacrificing entire companies to do so. Look them up.**

**Anyway, I hope I researched this right but in terms of what I want to do versus what actually happens and how it functions is not always a clear answer. The fluff sometimes glosses over little details like who actually pilots the damn battle barges.**

**One last thing, the Lamenters also do not have a large amount of fluff behind them so it becomes difficult sometimes to determine exactly what happened with them. So a lot of their fluff and a lot of characters will either be fleshed out by me or will be more or less made up. There isn't much so I think it is up to someone to give them some proper stories and hopefully maybe make some others aware of how horrible this chapter is treated. I am also taking out the "it will get worse for them" thing that seems to premeditated. I will make it so that things are not entirely smooth sailing but I still want to buff them up some so however this ultimately ends for them leaves you with a satisfying story that leaves you feeling something for these characters. Anyway that's all for now. See you when I can update.**


End file.
